Chapter 28
Oziel
Hearty laughs give way to lustful moans as the evening goes on. A few demons attempt to get my attention, but I pay them little mind, scanning the bodies in the ballroom. I lost track of Isabelle half an hour ago, and my body has been on edge ever since.
The power I used to disguise her has worn off—I was unable to hold it any longer.
If the River Hel was still at full power, my small display of magic would cost me nothing.
Now, though, I feel drained. A glimmer of magic resides in me on reserve, so we’re not completely powerless. Though my defenses are waning quickly.
I wrap my hands around the iron banister, perched up on the dais.
My throne sits empty, a harrowing reminder of everything I can lose.
Normally I’d be sitting upon my throne, overlooking the frenzied fucking taking place in my kingdom, but the thought of sitting still fills me with dread.
My body itches to move, and a sense of foreboding keeps me on edge.
I can’t shake the feeling something is terribly wrong.
Where the fuck is Isabelle? I need to get Garvan and have him help me search for her.
This human woman has shaken up my entire world in a matter of weeks.
My reason for bringing the human to my kingdom was to save it, not to fill an empty void inside me I’ve kept locked and hidden away since the death of my parents.
The years have hardened me, making me the demon king I am today.
But Isabelle reminds me of the one thing I’ve always secretly wanted but will never allow myself to have.
The human is my weakness.
Even though I should be conserving my powers, I send my shadows out to locate Isabelle within the castle.
But there’s no sign of Isabelle. A foreign feeling takes up residence within my chest, tightening my muscles and churning my stomach.
Knowing she’s not within the castle, I call my shadows back, but not before they pick up on something. An unknown presence stalking the halls.
There’s no need to investigate because, the next moment, the ballroom breaks out into screams. Demons flee in terror, pushing and shoving others in their way to escape the room.
The chaos erupting has me running from the dais, conjuring my sword made of deadly shadows.
Adrenaline and fear from my people fuel me, giving me a boost of strength I need.
Then a terrible high-pitched scream reverberates around the room, making my blood run cold.
The Nephilim.
Specifically, the one who should be tied up in my dungeon right now.
No one escapes. Never. There are too many security measures in place to prevent this.
Even if this Nephilim was somehow able to break through his chains and his cell, the moment his foot touched the stairs, it should have been eviscerated on the spot due to the spells placed on it, alerting me to the security breach.
A demon must have let him free, knowing we’d be distracted today. And only a demon who is stealing shadow magic could override all the safety nets placed upon the dungeon.
When I find them, no amount of torture will be enough. I will show them the extent of my wrath.
But where the fuck is Isabelle?
The Nephilim brings his fist down, cracking the flooring and sending the demons within a ten-foot perimeter flying backwards.
Some hit the wall with a sickening crunch, while others knock into those trying to flee.
Guards rush the scene, weapons drawn. I note they all come from the same direction, making me wonder if any of them had been at their post.
“Get everyone out!” I command, making sure my voice is heard above the rest.
My guards immediately follow my command, swiftly spreading out to herd everyone toward the exits.
The Nephilim’s sharp gaze flicks toward the demons as they flee, and its expression hardens in contempt.
Raising its hand, it conjures a swirling sphere of gray energy, dark magic coiling around its fingers like living smoke.
With a hiss, it hurls the orb into the panicked crowd.
The impact is instantaneous. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.
Magic erupts in a violent burst, sending a shockwave rippling through the air.
Those caught in its radius don’t even have time to scream before their bodies stiffen, their skin hardening into lifeless stone, frozen in place with wide-eyed terror and mouths open in silent cries, forever etched into their petrified forms.
The room reeks of dark magic, smelling of rotten eggs.
This is no longer a curse, but deadly magic being used to take my kingdom down.
There’s only one Nephilim, and yet it has the room in shambles despite enduring weeks of torture.
A whole fleet of healthy Nephilim? Despite my best efforts, I shudder.
The Nephilim forms another orb, staring at a group of demons still recovering from being thrown across the room.
Before it has a chance to hurl dark magic at my demons, I act, concealing myself in shadows.
My sword extends, bright red flames bursting along the dark metal, dancing in a deadly fashion.
The Nephilim doesn’t see me, providing me with the element of surprise.
I leap, using my shadows to get me airborne.
My sword slices through the air, murderous and formidable, and cuts through its hand like paper.
The Nephilim screams as blood spurts from its wound.
Its limp hand, no longer holding the magic orb, falls limply to the floor.
Its attention is on me, which is precisely what I want.
The injured demons are able to scramble free, fleeing to safety.
“Not my people. Not my kingdom,” I snarl, my voice laced with fury as I drop from the air, landing with a resounding thud. The impact fractures the tiled floor beneath me, jagged cracks splintering outward like a web. The uneven flooring pushes me closer to the Nephilim before me.
I don’t hesitate, immediately moving, forcing the creature to turn as I circle it, my muscles coiled, ready to strike. The Nephilim reacts, free hand crackling with energy as it hurls a bolt of magic in my direction. I pivot sharply, the air humming as the blast narrowly misses me.
That was close. Too fucking close. But I don’t dare glance back to see where it landed. Not even to check if any of my people were caught in the crossfire. I can’t afford the distraction. Not now.
The reason this Nephilim is here in the first place is because I wanted it.
It was a plus that Isabelle was able to communicate with the creature, but that wasn’t the initial reason I imprisoned it.
No, this was my own vanity speaking. My need to have the creature as a trophy.
Even Garvan tried to warn me. Well, in the end, it has cost me my people.
But it ends now.
I summon magic from the River Hel, the last bit I can squeeze out.
My body burns hot—too hot—as the magic flares to life inside me.
Blue flames erupt around me, licking my skin, eager to be let loose.
I burn brightly. Burn hot. Burn with the thoughts of Isabelle and the strength she provides me but doesn’t know it yet. Burn with the fear of my people.
And then I let go.
Fire bursts from my body, and the sudden loss of power forces me to my knees. Blue flames hit their mark, engulfing the Nephilim in an inferno hotter and more potent than normal flames. Another perk to wielding shadow magic.
The putrid stench of burned flesh fills the air as it melts from its body, exposing bone underneath. Its terrible cries of distress do little to quell my anger and frustration. Anger at myself for harboring a dangerous creature. Frustration for not being able to find my fucking wife.
All of a sudden, the screaming stops. The Nephilim teeters from side to side until it succumbs to its injuries.
Its large body drops, falling to the floor in a bloody, fiery mess.
For just one second, the Nephilim’s eyes meet mine.
Defeat registers in its gaze, then the light flickers out and leaves it completely dead. At my hand.
Silence follows. It’s as if the whole room is holding its breath, waiting for my next move. I’ve exhausted all my magic and power. Fatigue threatens to overwhelm me, but there’s still one person on my mind. One person I have yet to see and need now more than ever.
With shaky legs, I rise from the fire and ash. The room is nearly empty, save for the frozen statues of those who tried to flee but couldn’t, and a few of my guards waiting for their instructions.
But I ignore them. Ignore the fallout I must deal with. My voice roars into the silence, one name reverberating around me over and over again.
Isabelle.
Isabelle.
Isabelle.